The Other Time Traveler
by Notime33
Summary: During a routine visit to the future, Doc finds the world he expected somehow replaced by a terrible alternative. Investigation yields the only possible explanation: someone else has a time machine.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Tuesday, October 15, 1996  
12:23 P.M.  
Hill Valley, California

"Will you put it in the train, Pop?"

Doc stared at the lines of code on his son's computer screen, the symbols barely making sense to him.

Doc and his family had been in modern Hill Valley for about six months now. True to his promise, Doc had visited Marty repeatedly during the interim, even making it to Jennifer and Marty's wedding.

The Browns—Doc, 76, Clara, 40, Jules, 10, and Verne, 8—lived in a small, three bedroom ranch home in a middle class neighborhood near Lyon Estates called Gregory Terrace. At the moment, the time train was stashed in the Delgado Mine, about fifteen minutes from town.

Doc had hoped to use the train for historical research, as he thought of it, and had secured the train for that purpose. Its main feature was thumbprint locks, cleared for him and Clara.

Doc was surprised at how well his family had adapted to 1996—not to mention himself, as this was a foreign time to him too. Verne in particular had become incredibly interested in computers, to the point where he was designing his own from the ground up. Nonetheless, Doc was surprised when he approached his father with a program intended for the time machine.

"I think I just might, Verne," Doc said, "It certainly looks like it would work. I want to test this teleportation program before I install it in the train—tonight!"

Teleportation! The idea that the train could move through _space_ as well as time tantalized Doc. Indeed, he had hoped that the DeLorean would have that capability. He had at first thought that it would be a requirement, since the Earth rotates, moves around the sun, and the sun moves around the core of the galaxy. But the gravity of the Earth overwhelms these forces, meaning that the DeLorean—and now the train—stayed rooted in one spot as it traveled through time. To teleport would require a more complex wormhole, one that required so many calculations that the time circuits couldn't perform the task.

"You can trust me, Pop!" Verne said.

Doc sighed and patted his son on the shoulder, "This isn't about not trusting you Verne. As a scientist, I have to test each device before I use it."

"Okay," Verne said.

Doc looked at the programming code again. "Let's call Marty."

***

Marty McFly was the night DJ for KVHV, the local radio station, hosting a weekend program called _McFly on the Wall_. However, his life had taken a strange and exciting new turn as of late: his wife, Jennifer, was pregnant.

Marty was worried as to whether or not he would be a good father, and these thoughts preoccupied him as he stopped by the mine on a deserted Tuesday night. To his surprise, Verne was there.

"Hi Marty!" Verne shouted.

"Hey, Verne," Marty said, pulling him into a hug and giving him a small noogie, "What are you doing here, huh? Isn't it late? What's going on, Doc?"

"Verne," Doc said, "Wrote a program for the time circuits."

"It's time _programming_," Verne corrected automatically.

"Of course," Doc said.

"_You_ programmed?" Marty asked, only slightly surprised, "What's it do?"

"It's a spatial folding system," Doc said, "That allows the time train to move through locations in space."

"An actual teleporter?" Marty asked, "Cool. Is it ready?"

"Yep," Doc said, opening the door that sealed the mine. Steam poured out of the door, the hovering train barely visible through it.

"Jesus, Doc!" Marty shouted, "You had the thing _on_ in there?!"

"I didn't want you to wait five minutes as it powered up," Doc said, boarding the train, "Stand clear!"

Marty pulled Verne aside as the train hovered out of the storage unit. Doc exited the train, holding a remote control.

"I'm going to take the train out to 88. It will jump one minute into the future and teleport, to there," Doc said, pointing at a point in the sky over the town of East Valley, several miles away. "Clara and Jules are waiting with a similar remote control, just in case. Assuming the programming works correctly, a space-time wormhole will be opened that allows transit as I've described. Ready?"

When Verne and Marty nodded, the train took to the air, arcing slowly in a wide loop over Hill Valley.

A minute later, Marty asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Doc said, "The train has to accelerate slowly, otherwise the boiler could explode."

"Since when?"

"It's only when the train's first started," Verne said.

A few minutes after that, Doc guided the train directly over them. It hit 88 when it was directly overhead, disappearing and leaving behind the familiar fire trails.

Doc looked at one of his watches, "Verne, teletemporal displacement occurred at 12:32 A.M. and fifteen seconds."

"Got it, Pop," he said, writing the time down in a notebook. A minute later, the train appeared over the house in Gregory Terrace.

"It works!" Doc shouted.

"I told you it would, Pop!" Verne shouted back.

"I didn't doubt you for a moment!" Doc said, hugging his son.

A cell phone on the top of Doc's car rang. With Doc and Verne celebrating, Marty pulled the antenna out and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Marty?" It was Clara, "Tell Emmett and Verne that the train looks fine from here. I'm going to send it back."

"Uh, check," Marty said, "Hey, Doc!" Marty handed over the phone.

Only minutes later, the train had landed in front of the trio once again.

"I'm going to test it on my own, now," Doc said, "Assuming it works again, I'm going to power the machine down."

"That's it?" Marty asked, "No trip to the future or anything?"

Doc thought for a moment, "I've been intending to check in on our future selves, to make sure everything's okay. The future changes every instant, and something could have changed since I last checked, about six months ago, now."

"Why not now?" Verne asked.

Doc sighed, "You and your brother are up very late, Verne. It can wait till tomorrow."

"Fine," Verne said, disappointed.

Doc tested the train and, with no problems detected, they hid it in the mine again. While they were shutting the train down, Doc whispered to Marty, "Also, if anything unfortunate has happened to my family, I don't want them to know unless absolutely necessary. There's no point in needlessly upsetting them. That's why I want to take this trip on my own."

"You're the Doc, Doc," Marty said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Friday, August 13, 1999  
4:13 P.M.  
Elmdale, Iowa

Sam Powell couldn't believe it. He gently rubbed the fenders on the freshly-painted Volkswagen Beetle in front of him.

"Every panel?" he asked.

"Every panel," said Harry Campbell, who was standing nearby, "Electrostatically painted to your exacting specifications."

Sam sat behind the wheel. Sam, a twenty-year old, had graduated high school three years early. This car, though Harry didn't know it, was the culmination of a dream that his genius made possible.

Harry, an acquaintance from high school, didn't know what he made reality with a single, if expensive, paint job.

Sam's grandpa Frank had been dead for five years now, but it was the blueprints (and cash) he had bequeathed his only grandson that inspired the car. Actually, it was more than a car now.

If his calculations were correct, he, Samuel Powell, was sitting in a working, real-life time machine.

"So, do you have the car?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Sam said, exiting the car and taking Harry to the back of his house.

Sitting in the yard was a rusting turquoise Chevy.

Harry let out a low whistle, "Man, is this in bad shape." He smiled, "I'm gonna be working on this for a long time.

Sam smiled inwardly. The car was his grandfather's, the vehicle that he attempted to convert into a time machine, many years ago, only to abandon the project due to the lack of a suitable power source, a power source that Sam invented. The rear of the roof was missing, along with the equipment Sam had carefully removed. The tires and seats had rotted out, and the passenger side door was nearly falling off its hinges.

"So you're happy?" Sam asked.

Harry nodded, "Absolutely. A genuine '57 Chevy? I've _always_ wanted to restore one of those!"

Sam tossed him the keys and Harry towed the car away. Harry wasn't a friend; Sam didn't want to tell him about the time machine. But he had the perfect person in mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Sunday, October 18, 2026  
4:00 A.M.  
Hill Valley, California

When he arrived in 2026, Doc knew instantly that something was very, very wrong.

There were no skyways. Doc took the train around in a wide loop to make sure of this.

_That doesn't make any sense!_ he thought. When his family had first left the 1890's, they had gone to 2025, and the skyway system was very well developed.

The city also seemed quiet, another oddity (even though it was the pre-dawn hours). The Hill Valley of 2026 should have been active, catering to the young, nocturnal generation of the times. Instead, the city seemed deserted.

Doc tensed. What could have happened between 2025 and 2026?

After a closer inspection, Doc noticed some lights. Unfortunately, all that told him was that some form of electrical power still functioned. He swept slowly over downtown, noticing that the Clock Tower was being replaced by a high-rise, still under construction, and that the library had been torn down.

Doc flew the train over Highway 20, turning into Lyon Estates. He tilted the train's nose down to shine the lights on the homes below, the train's antigravity stopping it from descending. The entire development seemed abandoned.

He came alongside Roslyndale Drive, the street where Marty lived while growing up. The power lines had been removed, and most of the houses were boarded up; the rest seemed unoccupied as well.

Without any better ideas, Doc touched the train down in the backyard of abandoned number 9303—Marty's home. Before securing the train Doc put the sleep inducer in his pocket.

Lone Pine Mall was about a mile from Marty's old house. Doc walked the distance. He continued to be perplexed by what he found. The main entrance was chained off, with a sign reading:

NOTICE!!

As of January 1, 2024,  
Lone Pine Mall is  
CLOSED  
By order of His Excellency the Governor of California,  
Wyatt Smitts

Trespassing: $25,000 fine

The fine wasn't that severe, only $500 in 1996 (_Unless something changed the rate of inflation_, Doc thought). The only oddity, other than that the sign was English-only, was the governor's monarchical title. Doc didn't want to think about what that meant.

Since the chains only closed off the roads, Doc hopped over the fence next to the sign and slid down the small hill, his knees protesting the entire way. _God, I need another rejuv_, he thought. He readied the sleep inducer and followed the perimeter around to the main building.

No one was around to stop him. He quickly found the payphone, at the same spot where it was located in 1996, but it wasn't what he expected. It was an audio phone, not a video phone, and a paper phone book was suspended underneath. The cover read: _Area Code 530: Hill Valley – Hilldale – San Lomas – East Valley – 2020_. Doc opened it.

Hoping it was up-to-date, he opened it to the Browns. Finding no familiar listings, he turned to McFly. There was only one:

_McFly, Martin. 3793 Oakhurst St, Hd.. 2996-4484_

He recognized the address as the same one the McFlys lived at in the original Hilldale development. But why would he be back there? Was he alone?

He left the mall undisturbed. Since Hilldale was nearly seven miles from the mall, Doc elected to return to the train.

Fifteen minutes later, the train was in the air again. After sweeping over the neighborhood, Doc found an abandoned home in Hilldale with a secluded yard, three blocks from Marty's house, and he hid it there. After another brief walk, Doc found himself at Marty's door.

He knocked.

"Can I help you?"

Someone—a young woman, from the sound of her voice—had opened the door a crack and was peering out. Only her one eye was visible.

"Yes, uh…" Doc hesitated. He had a sinking feeling that he was in the wrong place, "Is this the home of Marty McFly?"

"Who's asking?"

"Tell him it's Doc. Of 1996."

The woman's eye widened, as if she knew exactly what Doc meant, "Just a sec."

It was a few minutes before the door flew open.

"Doc!" Marty shouted, grabbing Doc in a big hug.

"It's great to see you too, Marty," Doc said, slightly confused.

"Yeah, okay." Marty stepped back, allowing Doc to get a clear look at him. Doc was shocked. Marty looked much older than his fifty-eight years. He was almost completely bald, and his remaining hair was paper white. His face was filled with deep wrinkles, and he looked closer to 80 than 60. He was wearing a t-shirt and loose pants that looked as if he had just thrown them on.

"It's great to see you Doc. You gonna fix it?"

"As soon as I know what 'it' is," Doc said as Marty ushered him into the house. Marty gestured towards the red-haired woman who had answered the door, "I believe you've met Marlene."

"Hello," she said, shaking Doc's hand.

"I haven't really," Doc said, "You were only in utero when I left." He said it before he knew it was out, but Marlene just nodded and with a laugh said, "You said you were from 1996, so I figured I was at most a baby." She smiled at Doc's worried look, "Yeah, I know about the time machines."

"_Machines_?" Doc asked, "Never mind! I don't want to hear it!"

Marlene seemed confused. Marty cleared his throat and said, "Mari, could you get us some coffee?"

"Yes, of course," she said, leaving for the kitchen.

After she had gone, Doc and Marty sat in the living room. A giant cross was located where the TV was in the original future. Doc considered this odd, since Marty wasn't very religious. Maybe Marlene was.

"Marty, what are you doing in this house?" Doc asked, "Where's Jennifer, your son, why—." Doc stopped himself, "I don't suppose that's relevant to what I need to know."

"Actually it is," Marty said, looking seriously into Doc's eyes, "I think you're the only one who can fix it, Doc."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Saturday, August 14, 1999  
12:21 A.M.  
Elmdale, Iowa

Cindy Cox wondered once again just what the hell she was doing.

The twenty-year-old was at an abandoned parking lot on the outskirts of town. She was waiting for a friend of hers, Sam Powell, who had asked her to meet him there, with a camcorder, at 12:15. She had put up with a lot of weird crap from him over the years and, with all of the math help he had provided her, she felt that she owed him one.

She leaned on the hood of her black Ford Probe and pulled a can of pepper spray out of her purse.

After only another minute or so, she saw a VW bug pull into the lot. At least, it looked like a bug, or maybe a dune buggy, with a giant funnel sticking out of the left rear seat. Other things were attached to it, including something that resembled a rollbar. She knew immediately it was Sam, since she had seen him with the car before.

He pulled up in front of her car and waved, shouting out through the window, "You're early!"

"Early?!" Cindy shouted back, "_You're_ late!"

After Sam rolled up the window, she could see that he was tapping his watch. She saw him mouth the word "_Fuck!_" Cindy couldn't recall ever hearing Sam swear before.

"Of all days for this watch to give out," he muttered as he got out of the car. He walked over and gave Cindy a hug, another something unusual, "I'm sorry, but I'm really glad you're here."

"And why am I here?"

"You'll see, you'll see," Sam said, walking over to the passenger side of the car, "Start filming!"

Cindy shook her head, but got her camcorder out anyway and turned it on. Sam had returned, holding what looked like a control for a toy RC car.

"You're filming me?" he asked, "Okay, good. I'm Samuel Powell, it's…what time is it? Okay, it's twelve twenty-three A.M. on Saturday, August 14, 1999, in Elmdale, Iowa, and you are about to witness the world's first temporal displacement."

"The first _what_?"

"All in good time, Cindy. Follow me," Sam said, leading Cindy over to the passenger side of the car. A large, old-fashioned alarm clock was in the passenger seat.

"This is why I'm upset that my watch stopped," Sam said, "But you said it was 12:23?"

"Uh-huh," Cindy replied.

"Well, we can calibrate from there," Sam said. "Note that the clock here reads 12:24 and eleven seconds."

"Right, check."

Sam closed the car door, "All right, now let's step back."

After giving the car plenty of clearance, Sam picked up the remote control and told Cindy to keep the camera on the car.

"Is that why we're here?" she asked, "To show you can control the car?"

"No," Sam said, accelerating the car in a wide loop. He turned the car around and it sped towards them.

"Jesus, Sam—!"

"I'm not going to let it hit us," Sam said, "Not that it would…"

Sam was right; the car was positioned to pass them. But when it was about a hundred feet away, the front bumper and some of the components on the side began to glow bright blue. When it was about twenty feet away, there was a brilliant flash and the car seemed to explode.

Both gasped. Cindy nearly dropped the camera, while Sam screamed "Yahoo!" and ran around in circles, jumping nearly a foot into the air.

"It worked! It _worked_!"

A wave of heat blasted Cindy, from the two fire trails that were left behind where the wheels had been.

"Jesus Christ!" she muttered, as Sam opened the door of Cindy's car and looked at the clock.

"According to this," he said, "Temporal displacement occurred at about 12:25 and thirty seconds."

"'Temporal,'" Cindy repeated, the word sounded familiar. It suddenly clicked, and she spun around to face Sam, "_'Temporal_'?! You built a _time machine_?!"

"Yes, yes!" Sam said giving Cindy a hug, "And in a few seconds, we should catch up to it. Quickly, get your camera on the spot where it left!"

No sooner had Cindy done so than the car reappeared after three bright flashes, spinning out of control. Sam grabbed the remote control and applied the brakes, stopping the car.

The two slowly approached the car. It was covered in ice. Steam poured out of the funnel in the rear.

"I can't believe this!" Cindy said as they walked towards it, "You built a time machine? Into a bug?"

"It was available," Sam explained, "My grandfather tried to build it into a 1957 Chevy Bell Air."

"A '57 Chevy?" Sam walked around to the passenger side as Cindy asked, "The car you gave to Harry Campbell?"

"Right!" Sam said as he reached from the door. He winced in pain—it was _extremely_ cold. "I gave him the car in exchange for free body work on this car. It needed electroplated paneling to make the temporal transition easier. And you remember how often he talked about how much he wanted a hot rod to rebuild from the bottom up."

Sam picked up the clock and held it in front of Cindy's camera, "As you can see, it's about a minute behind and still ticking!"

Sam set the clock down in the driver's seat and sat down in the passenger seat, "Let me show you how it works."

A flat computer screen—Cindy thought it looked like the kind you'd see at a checkout counter—was mounted on the glove box. On the dashboard was a giant T-switch, mounted horizontally. Sam pointed at the switch.

"This turns the time machine on," he said, "Notice that it's currently in the on position. When you turn it on, you wait for the computer to boot and then you can set your destination."

Sam took a stylus attached to the computer—apparently it had once been a checkout stand credit card scanner—and pointed at the screen:

DESTINATION TIME:  
TEST MODE…+1 MIN

DESTINATION LOCATION:  
NONE SPECIFIED

CURRENT TIME:  
08/14/1999 12:26 AM  
ELMDALE, IA, USA

LAST DEPARTED TIME:  
08/14/1999 12:24 AM  
ELMDALE, IA, USA

"It's really quite simple," Sam said, "You just tap the words 'destination time' with this stylus, and as you can see, a virtual keyboard appears. You can pick anywhen and anywhere:"

NEW DESTINATION TIME:  
12/07/1941  
PEARL HARBOR, HI, USA

Y/N?

"So it can go to different places?" Cindy asked.

Sam nodded, "You have no idea how hard it was to get it to do that. The computers available today are barely powerful enough to perform the requisite calculations. It's easier to just stay in one location." He pointed at a group of three computer hard drives stacked behind the driver's seat.

"How come?"

Sam hesitated, "I'm not sure that I can explain it without using high-level calculus. Can you just take my word for it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Sam turned around and pointed at a glass box behind the front seats (the entire rear was filled equipment). Inside the box were three converging glass tubes, arranged in a capital-Y pattern.

"I wish I could take credit for this," Sam said, "But it was my grandfather who designed _this_, the Temporal Field Capacitor."

"Temporal Field Capacitor," Cindy repeated. She thought it was an ugly name, but she didn't say anything.

"This device makes time travel possible," Sam said.

"Interesting." What else could she say?

Sam got out of the car without a word and opened the hood. Inside were a trolley, three large metal containers, and a box.

"Is that an N64?" Cindy asked with a laugh.

"Yeah. Unopened and everything. I'm going to sell it in the future as an antique. I figure I'll need some source of income."

Sam took the trolley out of the car and set it up. It looked different than a regular trolley, most notably in that it had a giant crank on the side.

"Can you set the camera down and help me?" Sam asked, "These containers are heavy."

"Sure." Sam counted to three, and they both grabbed one and heaved it out of the trunk. It fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Jesus!" Cindy shouted, jumping to make sure it wouldn't hit her foot, "What is it?"

"Americium-241," Sam said, "It's a radioactive material found in most smoke detectors. It's the power source of the time machine's nuclear reactor."

"What?!" Cindy shouted as Sam put the barrel onto the trolley, "This thing is nuclear?!"

"It's perfectly safe!" Sam assured her as he rolled the trolley over to the right side of the car. He bent the handles back and screwed them into two holes on the back of the car, flanking a hubcap-like protuberance, next to the funnel. "Could you film this?"

After Cindy had retrieved her camera, he opened a lid on the reactor core, then screwed open the top of the barrel. A thin, rubbery seal was underneath.

By rotating the crank on the side of the trolley, Sam brought the barrel level with the reactor core, then spun it 180 degrees. The barrel slid perfectly into the reactor core, a blade on the inside tearing open the seal and allowing the contents to slide into the core. Sam waited about a minute before removing the barrel and sealing the core.

"That's it," he said, "It's ready to go."

"The future?" Cindy asked, "When in the future?"

"I was thinking 2019. And I was hoping that you would come along."

"Now?" Cindy set down the camera, "How long are we gonna be gone? I'm gonna have to set things up, take a day off school…"

Sam laughed, "Don't be ridiculous! We have a time machine! We'll return at the exact time we left!"

Cindy considered that for a moment.

_What the hell?_ she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sunday, October 18, 2026  
6:11 A.M.  
Hill Valley, California

"Oh Marty, spare me any melodrama," Doc said as Marty got up pulled down the scene screen.

"It's not melodrama, Doc," Marty said, "I've been expecting you—a past you—to show up one day, so I've prepared a little 'presentation' to make this clear for you."

Marlene returned to the room with steaming mugs of coffee. Doc accepted a cup and said, "Interesting idea, Marty."

"It was Marlene's idea," he said. Marlene handed Marty a disk, and he placed it into the projector. The image of a crowd of people surrounding the White House appeared. Doc gasped. They appeared to be armed.

"Friday, March 26, 2010," Marty said, "The coup. The right wingers had convinced everyone that President Obama was a dictator, so they overthrew him."

"Great Scott!" Doc whispered as he took it in, "Nothing like that was supposed to happen!"

Marty changed the image, now showing the President in handcuffs, "Obama was arrested and deported to Kenya, where the revolutionaries claimed he was actually born."

Doc remembered reading about the "birthers" during one of his visits to the future, but he couldn't believe that that nonsense could come to this.

"This," Marty said as the image changed again, "Is Senator Tom White of Idaho, circa 2010. He was the leader of the revolutionaries and was installed as president afterwards."

"Who was he?" Doc asked. The name and image were not familiar to him.

"Senator from Idaho since 1990. He was the Republican VP candidate in 2008," Marty said.

"Great Scott!" Doc shouted, jumping to his feet, "The vice presidential nominee in 2008 was a _woman!_"

"That might be the problem," Marty said, "I followed politics very closely at that time, for my show, and no woman was even on the short list in 2008."

Doc began pacing the room, "Proceed."

The image of a book appeared, titled, _The Struggle Against Cowardice_. "This was White's manifesto." He paused as if he wanted to say something, but he continued without saying it.

The image changed again, to people being herded onto cattle trains. A chill ran through Doc's spine. They resembled photos of nothing less than the Holocaust.

"On January 1, 2011, the country was re-segregated. Blacks were removed from Northern cities and Latinos were expelled into Mexico, even if they were native-born citizens."

That explained the English only signs Doc had seen. A video of Tom White appeared. He said, _"God impels us to return servitude to the Negro race, for that is the position he created for them_._"_

"Great Scott," Doc said, this time with anger. He remembered the Civil Rights Movement all too well, and to see it undone enraged him.

"Did he bring back slavery?" he asked Marty.

Marty nodded, "In 2012. That year, we withdrew from the UN and were kicked out of NATO. Countries stopped trading with us, even China, and the economy collapsed. It hasn't recovered yet. That's what happened to Hill Valley: people left to Mexico to find a better life. Jim and Jen left then, but I stayed behind. Marlene returned to Hill Valley in 2018."

He didn't explain who Jim was; Doc assumed that Jim was what they named their son in this future.

Marty showed some more pictures, mainly of riots against the forced relocation and protests against slavery, and then…

"You don't have to go any further," Doc said, "I get the point. America is led by a lunatic."

Marlene, who had been silent until that point, said, "You know what the problem is?"

"Absolutely!" Doc said, pacing the room. "The president in 2012 was the VP nominee in 2008, and was a woman. If I could only remember her name…"

He paced the room a few more times. Finally, he said, "Darlene Pippin. That was her name, Darlene Pippin! I'm absolutely certain of it! Can you take me to the new library, so we can look her up?"

Marty and Marlene gave each other an uncomfortable look.

"What is it?" Doc asked.

"There is no new library," Marlene said.

"What?"

Marty cleared his throat again, "The Government doesn't want the citizenry educated, Doc. It makes it easier for them to fool them and all. You know, a semester of first grade costs twenty-five million dollars. That's about a million in '96."

"Great Scott," Doc whispered.

Marty took a deep breath and forged on, "But there is someone who can help us. Let me call Verne."

***

"You have no idea how good it is to see you again, Pop."

Verne was still in Hill Valley, albeit in hiding. His skills as a computer engineer, and specifically as a hacker, made him a target.

"You have no idea how _odd_ it is to see you, Verne," Doc said as he hugged his son. He greatly resembled Doc at the same age, but with a more pointed chin that reminded of his mother. "You're thirty-seven now?"

"With time travel, I'm actually closer to thirty-nine," Verne said. He smiled mischievously, "But I'm sure you don't want to know about that."

"No I don't," Doc said, though that wasn't entirely true. _Does he ever steal the train?_ he wondered, before putting it out of his mind, "Can you help us find Darlene Pippin?"

"A cinch, Pop," Verne said, sitting at Marty's battered old desktop.

A few minutes later, however, he was getting frustrated.

"What is it?" Marlene asked cautiously.

"There's no record of a 'Darlene Pippin' anywhere in North America. It's like she never existed."

Doc groaned at this news. _If someone had killed her parents…_ he thought.

"Are you sure you're right about this, Doc?" Marty asked, "Wouldn't we have realized that she was gone before this?"

"No," Doc said, "If I remember correctly, her rise was meteoric. She was a nobody until 2005 or so. That's why none of us noticed the change until much later; it was too small."

"I've specifically checked Idaho records, since you said that's where she was from," Verne continued, "And I've located several Pippins in the Sandpoint area since 1950, including a Timothy Pippin who is the right age."

"That's her husband!" Doc said triumphantly, "I remember that now!"

Verne nodded, and kept typing. Within thirty seconds, he let out a loud "Aha!"

"Now what?" Marty asked.

"According to the _Sandpoint Gazette _archives," Verne said, "A Darlene Hart and a Jeff Gray were murdered on the night of Friday, May 8, 1981. The assailants were never found. According to the chief of police, one Earl Stambaugh, 'It's as if he disappeared into thin air.'" He turned around to face the others, "Know what I'm thinking?"

"No," Doc said, speaking for the others.

"I think we're dealing with a time traveler."

"What you're saying is certainly plausible, Verne," Doc said slowly, "But has anyone ever stolen the time machine?"

"No," Verne said, "I'm certain."

"Then how could this have happened?"

"Maybe someone built their own time machine," Marty said, "Maybe they swiped your blueprints or something."

"'If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains—however improbable—must be the truth," Verne said, "Sherlock Holmes, right?"

Doc thought for a moment, then said, "I suppose you're right, Verne. Someone—somehow—gained access of a time machine and used it to kill Ms. Pippin."

"But why?" Marlene asked, "How could she be worse than our 'führer'?"

"She wasn't," Doc said, "But someone might not have known that. If I remember correctly, she was grossly incompetent and was accused of stealing the 2016 elections. To a fanatic, that may have been enough. The ascendancy of Tom White was in all probability an accident the murderer did not foresee."

Doc stood, "I see no point in my staying here any longer. Thank you for your help, Verne."

"Thanks, Pop," Verne said, hugging him again.

"Especially if you fix this," Marty added.

"I _will_ fix this," Doc said.

Marlene hugged Doc too, "I know you don't know me yet, but I've missed you."

"Well, remember, I've felt you kick," Doc said with a laugh.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Marlene asked, "Like come with you?"

"There really isn't a point," Doc said as he stepped outside the door, "When this timeline reverts to its proper course, you will have no memory of this place."

"But if you don't succeed?" Marlene asked.

"I _must _succeed!" Doc said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Sunday, September 1, 2019  
1:16 P.M.  
Elmdale, Iowa

Sam and Cindy had now been in the future for two and a half weeks. The N64 sold at an auction for $91,000 (about $10,000 in 1999), enough to pay for a nice hotel and a "hover conversion" on the VW. Though it had proven very interesting, Cindy missed 1999.

She brought this up as they sat together at the Starbucks in downtown Elmdale.

"I suppose we can go back next week," Sam said, "Is that all right with you?"

"More than OK," Cindy said, "Don't get me wrong. The future is nice and all, but I miss '99."

Sam shrugged. He preferred the future to the past, "At least we know that the millennium bug is bogus."

Cindy laughed, "Totally."

Sam looked out the window. He noticed a hover converted '57 Chevy parked outside, with Iowa plates HARRY99.

"Hey Cindy, look!" He said, pointing at it, "I think that's Harry's hot rod."

Cindy looked, "Shit!" she whispered, "What if he sees us?"

Sam shrugged, "We've aged twenty years in the interim, and I doubt he'd peg us as our past selves. Most people don't encounter time travel in their everyday lives, after all."

"Of course," a voice said, "Not everyone has it put out for them, either."

The pair turned. A familiar looking middle-aged man was standing at their table.

"Shit," Sam whispered.

"Sonuvabitch!" the man shouted, "Sam Powell! You made a time machine out of that V-Dub!"

"Uh…"

"Deny it!" Cindy hissed.

"I heard that," Harry said, "Hello, Cindy. Either you're twenty again, or you've had one hell of a facelift."

The two were silent for a minute. Harry took a pen out of his pocket and wrote an address on a napkin: 1411 New Maple Avenue.

"Could you guys stop by for dinner, bout six? And don't try to skip town. Er, time. I know where you live here in '19, Sam."

He said it jokingly, but Sam was confused, "How? I'm not an old man in 2019! I haven't returned to '99 yet!"

Cindy nodded, as Sam had explained it to her. But before she could add her objection, Harry said, "Well, then someone's been impersonating you for twenty years. Maybe you could learn a little about that, hm?"

***

Though he was tempted to turn tail for 1999, Sam was curious about his "future self". His examination of the mathematics indicated that the future was created in real-time, meaning no future incarnation of himself should exist. Of course, he did intend to return to 1999, so perhaps that had something to do with it.

Harry's house was in a somewhat old section of Elmdale, a two-story house whose style seemed brand new to Sam and Cindy. Harry had indicated that he was married, but his wife and son were out of town at the moment, visiting colleges that his son might attend the following spring. The house was easy to spot from the air, since his flame-emblazoned Chevy was in the drive.

Harry had ordered pizza. They talked over dinner, with Sam taking copious notes, curious about an "insider's" view of the future. Sam avoided talk of his future self, which annoyed Cindy to no end, though she didn't say anything.

Harry was a bit on the down-and-outs in 2019. He was ill, some sort of chronic condition that Sam hadn't heard of. His son was a straight-A student, but even with scholarship money he could barely afford college.

"He's getting the hell out of here," Harry said of his son, "Not that I can blame him."

Harry was particularly mad about the current president, a woman named Darlene Pippin. He seemed to loathe the woman, holding the opinions that she was some sort of fanatic unfit for the job. He described how many people he knew of pretended to be Canadians when they travelled abroad, to avoid harassment. He mentioned a near-nuclear war in 2013, with the Swiss of all people. All in all, he seemed a bit left wing, which shocked Sam and Cindy.

Meanwhile, he asked Sam a lot of questions about the time machine which he had inadvertently helped build. His tone changed when he learned it could travel into the past.

"Why wouldn't it?" Sam asked.

"Well…" Harry hesitated, "A movie came out about a year ago, called _Robot Visions_¸ where a time machine could travel forward and back to the present but no further. I love that movie. I guess I was thinking about it. And you came to the future, not the past."

"Too dangerous," Sam said, "I could alter history."

Harry paled, but only Cindy seemed to catch it. Sam asked, "What were you saying about the War in Iraq? It's been going on how long?"

Sam continued quizzing Harry for a few more minutes. When Harry paused after a question, Cindy opened her mouth to ask him about her future. Before she could, he stood and said, "Would you like to see my car? It was falling apart when you left, after all."

"Sure," Sam said, "Weren't the seats moldy?"

"Yeah, I had to tear out the entire interior," Harry said as he led the two to the garage, "I added power windows, thumbpad locks—only recently, mind you—CD player, air conditioning…"

As they entered the garage, Cindy began to ask, "Um, Harry, what about…?"

Before she could finish, Harry grabbed something off a shelf and flashed a light in her eyes. She crumpled, with Harry gently setting her down on the floor.

Sam let out a cry. Harry pulled a gun of another shelf and pointed it at him, "She'll be fine. She'll wake up in about ten minutes. Listen! You've got to take me to the past."

"What for?" Sam asked, panicked.

"I'm going to kill Darlene Pippin. Stop her before she destroys this country."

"What?"

"Listen! You haven't lived under her regime. You haven't seen what that…dumb bitch has done to this country!" His gun shook, with anger, "You're taking me to 1981. I know a date. Now!"

Sam did as he was told, and a few moments later, the VW disappeared into the past.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Friday, October 18, 1996  
12:06 P.M.  
East Valley, California

"Emmett?" Clara asked as he emerged from the train, "You appear upset."

"I _am_," he said. "I'll explain in a minute."

"What's wrong, Doc?" Marty asked, somewhat forcefully, "Is something wrong with our future?"

Doc nodded, "With _everyone's_ future. The whole world's."

Doc took a deep breath and briefly explained the situation, telling the group that somehow the president had been 'erased from existence', allowing a dictatorship to emerge in the 2010's. He left some key details out so as not to scare his children.

"What do we do?" Jules whispered, clearly scared anyway.

"Don't worry, Marty and I will take care of this," Doc said, "It'll habe to wait until tomorrow, however. We need to prepare."

***

At about one the next afternoon, Doc called Marty and asked him to come over early, alone. Marty didn't arrive until two-thirty, which was late even by his standards. Apparently, it was something related to Jennifer and the baby.

Doc explained the situation in more depth than he had earlier, including his visit to Future Marty and Marlene. When he finished, more than ten minutes had passed.

"Holy shit, Doc!" Marty shouted, "You really think this is a time travel thing?"

"I'm absolutely sure!" Doc said, "By 2015, the future will have deviated so significantly from the future we both observed ten years ago that even your future self was suspicious."

"Then how'd someone get to the time machine? Should we destroy the train?"

"What if that's not the problem?" Doc said, though he was sorely tempted to think that _would_ solve their problem, "In any case, I want to know who we're dealing with."

Doc gestured at the train, "I already charged the sleep inducer; I want to leave now."

Marty nodded. He could understand why Doc was anxious to fix the problem ASAP; the future sounded terrible, "So where are we gonna go?"

"1981," Doc said.

Doc went inside and said goodbye to Clara, and ushered Marty into the train.

Marty had never gotten a good look at the train time machine before, and he was amazed. Two velvet-covered benches took up most of the cab, one against the back wall and sides, another just in front of what Marty assumed were the controls. To the left of the boiler were three rolls of dials. Each row was made up of three components. The day, time, and year indicators looked like an odometer, albeit with a quaint, Victorian flair. The month indicators were similar, with the names of the month on the dials. In addition, the present time in hours and minutes was indicated by a clock rather than the dials.

The dials read:

DESTINATION TIME  
OCT 18 1996 12:06 AM

PRESENT TIME  
OCT 19 1996 02:44 PM

LAST DEPARTED TIME  
OCT 18 2026 07:58 AM

"Are you ready, Marty?" Doc asked, as he spun the dials at the top to input a new destination time.

"Yeah, Doc," Marty said, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"Then you might as well sit down," Doc said, "The train is a lot slower to 88 than the DeLorean."

"'Kay, Doc," Marty said, sitting in the back, as Doc fired up the boiler.

Doc wasn't kidding: it was at least ten minutes before the train was even ready to move.

"Hey, Doc?" Marty said.

"What?"

"Are you gonna build another DeLorean? Or, you know, a time machine that's fast?"

Doc opened his mouth, then shut it. Then he said, "I haven't a god damn clue as to what I'm going to do with regards to the time machines."

"Oh." Marty was surprised.

After the train lifted to the air, Doc said, "Maybe a car that seats four. It won't be long now."

Five minutes later, the silent pair leapt into the past.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Friday, May 8, 1981  
7:00 A.M.  
Sandpoint, Idaho

Marty's breath was sucked out of him. It seemed that the air rushed out of the cabin. He struggled to breathe, and the train began a rapid descent.

"Doc!" he gasped as soon as he could, "What happened?"

"We came up too high," Doc said, also out of breath, "So the cabin depressurized. Not catastrophically, thank God. I estimate that we're at an altitude of approximately 15,000 feet. And it appears that we're about, oh, seven miles from the city." He pointed out the window, where a town was visible on the edge of a lake in the distance.

"How'd that happen?"

Doc hesitated, "The teleportation process is sensitive and experimental. It is theoretically possible that the spatial wormhole between Hill Valley and Sandpoint deviated from a few milliarcseconds off the straight line between our locations, resulting in a wormhole opening that was in an inoptimal location."

"Jesus Christ, Doc!" Marty shouted, "You mean this was dangerous? You could've gotten us killed!"

"It was an accident! And the process isn't really that dangerous, likely just an error in the library of locations!" Doc snapped back.

Before Marty could object any further, Doc said, "Open the window and help me find a suitable place to land."

A few minutes later, the train touched down in a clearing in the woods about a mile from town.

Doc retrieved some period cash from his money suitcase, then opened a second suitcase on the bench in the back of the cabin.

"This is a sleep inducer," he said to Marty, instructing him on how to activate it. "This dial, on the bottom, controls the length of sleep, from 5 minutes to an hour. It has limited energy, so if you put someone out for five minutes, you can only put someone else out for fifty-five minutes. Keep that in mind."

"Check, Doc."

Doc handed Marty something that looked like a wristwatch. "This is a wrist radio," he said, demonstrating how to use it.

Doc also handed Marty a pair of glasses, "These are night-vision goggles. I expect that we will have to, uh, apprehend the person or persons responsible for the murder at night."

Marty nodded, and Doc handed him some of the cash, "We may have to split up later tonight. I'm going to take the hoverboard."

"You?" Marty asked, "No offense, Doc, but can you use the thing?"

Doc waved his hand side-to-side in a 'so-so' gesture, "But you're quicker on your feet, Marty. I might need the extra speed." He tucked the hoverboard into his trench coat, "Let's go."

The walk into town took about twenty minutes. Part of the way, Marty quizzed Doc about the dark future in store if they failed. Doc didn't reveal much, fearing that he would depress Marty or something.

They went to a diner called _Emmy Lou's_ and ordered breakfast.

"So, what's the plan, Doc?" Marty asked.

In between bites of his hash browns, Doc said, "I arrived early in hopes of intercepting the person in the other…machine," he said carefully, still painfully aware of what happened last time he spoke of the time machine publically. He continued, "Failing that, we track Ms. Hart and shadow her to the place of the murder. We intercept the person there."

"How do you except to find the person in the other time machine?"

"Just 'machine' Marty, in public," Doc said, "And frankly, I have no idea. Hopefully, it will create a racket when it enters this time per…comes to the city."

"Sounds like a long shot, Doc. Shouldn't we just skip ahead?"

Doc shook his head, "No. The articles said that the time of the murder was unknown—any time between 5 PM and 10 AM tomorrow. It's best that we follow Ms. Hart to be as safe as possible."

"So we wait," Marty said impatiently, "Perfect."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Friday, May 8, 1981  
7:42 P.M.  
Sandpoint, Idaho

The day consisted mostly of waiting. They rented some ATV's at a place downtown for transport. They later located Ms. Pippin—or Ms. Hart—at the local high school that afternoon. Doc was able to place a homing device in her purse when she left it unattended, and they used this to track her from a distance.

That was nearly five hours ago. Marty was getting antsy.

"Are you sure we have the right day, Doc?"

Doc rolled his eyes. "Positive," he said, without looking up from the business card-sized device that was his end of the homing device. "She's headed towards 'Lisa's' bar right now. I think it's safe to follow closer now."

"Bar? Isn't she 19?" When Doc nodded, Marty asked, "You think the killer finds her here?"

"I wouldn't—" Doc began.

He was interrupted by a familiar sound: three quick sonic booms.

"Great Scott!" they shouted as they looked towards the sky. They weren't alone, either. A few of the drunks outside the bar pointed at lights in the sky.

"They're headed over to the forest," Doc said, "Come on!"

Doc and Marty ran and found that a Volkswagen had landed in a forest clearing. The passenger side door was open, and a young man was unconscious and on his side, half outside the car.

"Sleep inducer," Doc said after examining him.

"Look at this!" Marty said, pointing to an instrument panel inside the vehicle. A readout displayed:

DESTINATION TIME:  
05/08/1981 07:42 PM

DESTINATION LOCATION:  
SANDPOINT, ID, USA

CURRENT TIME:  
05/08/1981 07:48 PM  
SANDPOINT, ID, USA

LAST DEPARTED TIME:  
09/01/2019 07:42 PM  
ELMDALE, IA, USA

"Looks like we found the other time machine, Doc," Marty said.

"But how'd he get knocked out?" Doc asked.

"He's not our perp!" Marty shouted, "Someone _stole_ the time machine, like Biff did back in '85! Or '15, whatever. That's why he was in the passenger seat!"

"Ohhhh," the young man groaned, "Where are we Harry? When are we?"

"Wake up!" Doc demanded, slapping the young man's face. But the young man slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Don't be so rough," Marty suggested, "Shouldn't we leave him behind? We should be following our perp."

Doc glanced at the homing device, which indicated that Ms. Hart was still in the bar, "Not yet. Her body was found about a mile from the bar, with indications that she was murdered on the scene. I want to know how this young man got a time machine!"

A minute later, the man began mumbling again.

"Who are you?!" Doc snapped, "How did you get the blueprints to a time machine?!"

The man's eyes opened, "Doctor Brown?!" he said, clearly surprised.

"Yes! How did you get to my blueprints?!"

"_Your_ blueprints?" The man sat up, rubbing his forehead. "Oh, does my head hurt." He stared at Doc for a moment, "How did you find me? Do you have a…or are you from _here_?"

"Hey Doc!" Marty said, "Someone's coming."

"Hide!" the young man whispered, "Hurry, he's armed!" And he sprawled himself on the ground as if he were still unconscious.

Marty grabbed Doc and dragged him into the woods as a middle aged man returned to the time machine. He pushed the young man out and took to the air.

The young man sat up and shouted, "Doctor Brown!"

Doc ran back over to the young man and shook him, "How did you get your hands on a time machine?!"

"Chill, Doctor! I made it! How did you know it was a time machine? Do you have one too?"

"Of course! What do you mean you made it?!"

The young man wrote the following in the dirt with his finger:

Gμν = 8πωCφ

"My name is Sam Powell. My grandfather, Frank Powell, designed a time machine but never finished it. I did."

"Frank Powell?" Doc asked, "As in…?"

"DOC!!" Marty shouted, "We don't have time for this!"

Doc turned to Sam, "Who's the man with the time machine?"

"His name's Harry," Sam said, "He's a friend of mine. Well, his future self. He's come here to kill someone."

"We know," Marty said.

"Quickly!" Doc said, "You and Sam take one of the ATV's. I'll retrieve the train. I don't know if you understand the danger, Sam, but your 'friend' must be stopped!"

***

It didn't take Doc long to get back to the train, since he had the ATV.

The Volkswagen was difficult to spot, but he had the homing device to guide him to its target, and he assumed (correctly) that it was following Ms. Hart. It was hovering, following a muscle car on the main road out of town. Doc could see Darlene sitting in the passenger seat of the convertible, while a man he recognized as Mr. Gray was driving. The two could barely keep their hands off each other.

Meanwhile, Sam and Marty were closing in on the muscle car as well.

"Marty, come in!" Doc said through his wrist radio.

"_I read you, Doc,"_ Marty said, _"We've got a Mustang that we're following out of town. No sign of the other time machine._"

"Be careful, Marty, it's right on top of you!"

Doc saw Marty look, _"Check, Doc. I don't think he sees us. We'll be careful_._"_

Doc nodded, though Marty couldn't see him, "10-4, Marty."

A few minutes later, the Mustang pulled onto a side road. The VW followed in the air.

"Marty, he's landing!" Doc shouted, "Get off the road, immediately!"

"_10-4!"_ Marty shouted. Doc saw the ATV pull off the road.

The Volkswagen landed and the man—Harry—got out. He held a gun. Doc saw Marty and Sam close in on him. Harry spotted them, shot in their general direction, and ran towards the Mustang.

Without anything better to do, Doc blew the train's whistle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Friday, May 8, 1981  
8:14 P.M.  
Sandpoint, Idaho

Harry hit the deck when the train's whistle blew. Marty took the opportunity and lunged, pinning Harry to the ground. Sam hesitated, then followed, and wrestled the gun from Harry's hands.

Doc landed the train behind them.

"Please don't shoot me!" Harry begged.

"We're not going to shoot you," Doc said.

Harry turned around enough to see Doc, "Doctor Brown?! _The_ Doctor Brown?"

"Why does everybody know who I am?" Doc muttered before hitting Harry with the full blast of the sleep inducer.

"I'll go check on Ms. Hart and her friend," Doc said, "You two get him into the train."

Sam and Marty nodded, Sam gaping at the sight of the steam train time machine.

Fortunately for Doc, Darlene and Jeff were too focused on their lovemaking to notice that anything happened, and Doc returned to the train.

"I've only got enough fuel for one more trip," Sam said when Doc returned, "Think you could hook me up with a Mr. Fusion when we get there?"

Doc nodded, "How's, uh, Harry?"

"Still out cold," Marty said, "Any idea what we're going to do with him when we take him to 2019?"

"I was hoping he'd think it was some sort of dream," Doc said, "Like Jennifer."

"Not possible," Sam said, "Cindy and I interacted with him too much."

Not pausing to ask who 'Cindy' was, Doc said, "We'll think of something. We should get to 2019 as soon as possible. I'm curious…how did you get enough power to generate the 1.21 jigowats of electricity to power the time machines."

"_G_igawatts," Sam corrected without thinking, "My machine uses Americium in a reactor based on your forced fission design. This…"

Doc gasped at these words, though Sam didn't appear to notice, and pondered what Sam had said.

"…_Your forced fission design…_"

Doc knew instantly what he was talking about. The original DeLorean's plutonium reactor used a system which converted the plutonium into pure lead, without nuclear waste. He had not publicized the system for fear that it would lead to greater nuclear proliferation. Apparently, a future self did not have that fear.

"What year are you from?" Doc asked, interrupting Sam's monologue.

"1999."

"Fascinating," Doc said, "We're from 1996."

"Why is that fascinating?" Marty asked.

"We'll discuss that later," Doc said, "Right now, we need to get Harry here back to 2019."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Sunday, September 1, 2019  
8:00 P.M.  
Elmdale, Iowa

Cindy awoke completely unaware that anything had happened. Sam was rather relieved by this, even though he knew that it would happen.

They laid Harry on the couch and put up the movie _Robot Visions_ OnDemand, in the hopes that he would think it was all a dream. Just to be safe, once they left Harry's house, Doc also contacted Sam's future self from a payphone at the diner they stopped at.

"I remember what happened," the forty year old said, rubbing his forehead, "Just barely. I suppose that's because it just happened and is still happening. The Ripple Effect, as you call it."

Since Doc had not used that phrase with Sam yet, he wondered what that meant.

"Don't worry," Future Sam continued, "I'll deny everything. Cindy too."

"If Harry presses you?" Doc asked.

"Well, for one, I don't have the VW anymore, though don't tell my younger version that. My current time machines don't look like time machines, due to the better technology we have now. Don't worry, Doc. Harry tranqs anyway, every once in a while," Future Sam said this with sadness. He shrugged, "Trust me, Doc. I've known your other self for twenty years, and he'd trust me on this."

"I don't want to hear it," Doc said, "I'll trust you. Thank you."

Future Sam nodded and closed the connection.

Doc returned to the others.

"Your future counterpart is aware of the situation and has a plan in case things go sour," Doc said as he sat down.

"Good," Sam said.

The four were silent as their meals arrived. Marty broke the silence by saying, "You actually built your machine independently?"

"You shouldn't be too surprised at that, Marty," Doc said, "I'm surprised I'm surprised."

Sam nodded, "At least one other person tried to patent a telephone at the same time Alexander Graham Bell did. The same day, even. Great minds think alike and all that." Sam blushed, "If I may compare yourself to your genius, Doctor."

"What does that mean?" Doc said, then, "Never mind! I don't want to know!"

"Why not?" Cindy asked.

"No man should know too much about their own 'destiny'."

"Aw, c'mon Doc," Marty said, "Haven't we been through this?"

"If you don't want to know your own destiny," Cindy asked, "Why build a time machine in the first place?"

"Because there's no such thing as 'destiny'," Doc said, "This entire future consists of what was _most likely_ from the moment you left 1999, not what _must_ happen from the moment you left. A single decision you can make can ruin the entire future by the time it arrives.

"You can even destroy the past. Marty here nearly erased himself from existence when he prevented his parents' initial meeting."

"It wasn't a pleasant experience," Marty said.

"And I learned I had a time machine thirty years before I had it," Doc continued, "I spent that time worrying I was moving too quickly or too slowly and that I would create a paradox."

Sam and Cindy took this in. Finally, Sam said, "But I already told you what you were famous for when I explained my time machine."

"I know," Doc winced.

"Were you working on that when you left '96?"

"No," Doc said.

"Then it's too late now," Cindy said, "You're feet are all ready in the pool, so you might as well jump."

"I'll think about it," Doc said.

Cindy shrugged.

Eager to change the subject, Marty said, "You know, if someone duplicated your work once, Doc, it could happen again."

"He's right," Cindy said, "Especially if you built a time machine in, what was it, 1895?" When Doc nodded, she continued, "What if someone has bad intentions?"

"Then we wouldn't know," Doc said, "If, for example, an individual travelled from 1895 to 1865 and killed Abraham Lincoln, that would be our history."

"Then we leave history alone," Sam said, "Everything before our present."

"But the future," Cindy began, "Well, when Harry went from 2019 to 1981, you could tell because he changed the future, but not our present."

"Then we keep an eye out for bastards from the future," Marty said.

"Marty," Doc said condescendingly, "I don't have the slightest clue as to how that might be possible."

"Hey, if anyone could figure it out, it'd be you, Doc," Cindy said, "Though you don't want to know that," she winked.

Doc groaned, "Very well, we work to protect history. Together. If we find a way."

"The ultimate historical preservation society," Marty said.

Doc rolled his eyes, "If we have to."

Sam nodded, "If we must."


End file.
